Test of Faith
by Rori-san
Summary: Preseries. Sequel snippet of Kyrie Eleison, in which one of Robin's first hunts takes place. Minor spoilers for my postseries fanfic, WHR: Repercussions.


Rome: an ancient capitol of an empire long since dead; a city of ancient gods and battles and ghosts; the seat of an ancient Church. Here they hunted, on hallowed ground, navigating the avenues of the dead outside of Rome's walls in search of their quarry. Underground, where the darkness stifled and decay weighed heavily upon her, Robin traveled the tunnels. The faint light of the flashlight beams bounced erratically along the marble archways and did little to illuminate the uneven path. Occasionally, a furry body would scurry under her feet, rustling passed the hems of her long skirts and squealing off into the distant catacombs; it was all Robin could do not to shriek in disgust every time this happened.

Baldassare, one of Father Juliano's deacons, led the way through tunnel after tunnel of underground burial chambers. His lithe form traversed the passageways with ease, while Robin stumbled clumsily over the loose cobblestones and struggled to keep up. After what seemed to be hours, he halted and jerked his head to gaze intently down one of the passages.

She watched Baldassare dash down the dark corridor and strike down his prey in a matter of seconds. _You will become a hunter, my child_, Juliano had told her in their last meeting._ To protect the innocent, to fight the evil that is growing in this world, this is your mission. You have pledged yourself to our cause—God's cause—and now you must prepare for the dangers ahead._ Feeling the weight of her promise resting ominously on her shoulders, Robin trotted down the corridor after her partner.

Panting as she reached a fork in the catacombs, Robin stooped down to examine the defeated witch with a mingled sense of horror and morbid curiosity. The man's eyes were wide-open, staring vacantly at the ceiling, and his mouth was agape; his face seemed frozen in a silent scream. Whatever Baldassare had done to the unlucky man, there was no blood, not even a visible wound. Robin shivered and glanced up as she noticed Baldassare's figure diminishing down shadowy corridor from whence they'd come. Nearly tripping over her voluminous skirts, she hurried after him, her boots clacking loudly on the uneven floor. She certainly did not want to be left alone in this never-ending crypt.

At last they surfaced into the dazzling light of the afternoon sun. Robin was grateful to be out of the dank tunnels. She could still feel the centuries' old dust and decay clinging to her face and bare hands. _Cleanliness is next to Godliness,_ Mother Superior always said, and Robin shuddered to think of what horrid things might be floating in the air in the catacombs. _Best to wash up as soon as possible._

Baldassare, on the other hand, seemed to care little about the state of filth they were in. He had continued along in a hasty stride away from the catacombs' entrance and back into civilization. As she and Baldassare were confronted by the open stares of a group of tourists who were milling about, Robin thought it odd that they had been assigned a hunt in such a heavily-populated area. She had expected to track witches in alleyways, not tourist-traps. Well, she had also expected to be of more use than just serving as Baldassare's shadow. She'd done nothing of merit in her training so far. She'd been told to stay out of the way and act as back-up if Baldassare needed her help, and he had made it very clear that the occasion would never arise. Robin did not doubt his capability as a hunter, but she did wonder why SOLOMON had assigned her to apprentice under the man. There was little she could learn if the situation remained as it was. How was she supposed to gain any experience if she wasn't allowed to do anything but observe? All these thoughts she pondered in frustrated silence. She couldn't tell Baldassare of her discouragement; he would only laugh and make her feel like the child she was trying so hard not to be. And Juliano would doubt her determination if she were to come to him with her complaints.

In exhausted resignation, Robin trotted after Baldassare. She would not give him the satisfaction of leaving her behind.


End file.
